Ravenous
by Pyjamas
Summary: Daisuke claims it was a disaster. Taichi suspects that it was just an excuse to get into his pants. [Daichi]


**Title: **Ravenous  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **For Mfreak89. The idea for this struck me when my older sister nearly ran over a family of ducks and baby ducks. It was the perfect opportunity to write a slightly hysterical Daisuke, explore Mrs Yagami's cooking and take a tiny break from my drabbles project. And, of course, I've thrown in a bit of Daichi action for good measure. Even though Dais is younger, I much prefer him being in charge of things.

* * *

Daisuke was late. It certainly wasn't an uncommon occurrence, Taichi reasoned. Daisuke just seemed to lack a concept of time. On more than one occasion, he'd strolled leisurely into their apartment during the hours of the night, his only excuse being that he'd been distracted on his way home. The things he was distracted by were usually very trivial and unimportant, to Taichi at least, which served to make him feel no more special than a potato, and a very small potato, at that. He believed that it was perfectly justifiable for him to feel like that; because, really, who left their long-term boyfriend home alone for hours on end in favour of doing something stupid, like watching a roadside snail-racing contest? 

It was beyond Taichi how his boyfriend could stay distracted for so long. Sure, he could understand if he just wanted to take a peek if something vaguely interesting was going on, but to go the whole hog and actually get involved? That must have been what he was doing; _nobody_ would be able to just stand and watch such dull happenings for such a long period of time. Not even Daisuke, Taichi thought with a smirk, was _that_ brain-dead.

Although, there had been times when Taichi had been surprised at the things Daisuke had come out with; he hadn't believed it to be possible for anybody to be so dense. One of the classics was when Daisuke came home late and couldn't for the life of him stop yawning. When Taichi had questioned him about it, he'd answered that there had been a beggar playing the flute in the street. Finding himself curious, he'd sat on a nearby bench to listen and see how many times the beggar would play the same tunes in a row. When Taichi turned to him, a 'you _cannot_ be serious' look on his face, Daisuke had just looked back and shrugged, the very picture of innocence and naivety. Since then, even though he remained convinced that Daisuke was much smarter than he let on (it definitely hadn't been luck that got him into a good college, after all), Taichi knew never to underestimate just how stupid his boyfriend could be at times.

He just hoped, for both their sakes, that he wasn't late this time because of something ridiculous. Daisuke had promised to be home on time because Taichi was making them homemade lasagne, and Taichi had promised to ban all sexual activity for at least a week if Daisuke was late and he didn't have a _very_ good excuse. After all, it wasn't every day that Taichi would go to all this effort over a meal.

He bent down to check the oven, and groaned when he saw that his precious lasagne was nearly done. Not being the most brilliant cook in the world, it had taken him quite some time to prepare; he was going to be awfully disappointed if it went to waste. _Actually, no_, he thought, _sod that. I'll eat it myself and Daisuke can make himself sausages or something._

And so that was the plan if Daisuke didn't return in the next few minutes. In the meantime, he poured himself a drink and grinned. He wasn't one for brooding, and bollocks to Daisuke if he didn't appreciate the effort; all the more lasagne for Taichi. He had to admit, he was rather hungry. He hadn't eaten much during the day because he had been rather preoccupied with getting this dinner just right, so in actual fact the plan suited him rather well, whichever way things turned out.

He kept his eyes on the clock as he wandered around the kitchen drink in hand. There wasn't much point in him going to watch TV or anything, because by the time he got there it would be time to come back and take the lasagne out of the oven. The seconds ticked by, and it grew more and more likely that Daisuke wasn't going to return in time. It was a shame, really. Daisuke had always praised Taichi's cooking, while Taichi himself believed that his culinary skills were much the same as those of his mother. And that wasn't a good thing; he and Hikari, and sometimes even his father, had had a tendency to feed their meals to their very unwilling cat when his mother wasn't looking. She, bless her, could never understand why Meeko was so prone to an upset stomach.

So it had surprised him when Daisuke had first tasted his cooking and didn't immediately start dry heaving. But it had downright _astonished_ him when he had cleared the whole plate and afterwards asked if there was any more. Even with Daisuke's seal of approval, however, Taichi remained unconfident in his cooking skills, fearing he would end up producing meals that tasted as ghastly as his mother's, and so it wasn't very often that he cooked. It was even less often that he cooked without being pestered by his boyfriend for at least twenty-four hours in advance. In that respect, it was quite unfair for Daisuke to miss this meal, but he really didn't have anybody to blame but himself.

A timer rang out through the kitchen and Taichi yelped in surprise, nearly managing to throw his drink all over the floor. He rushed to put it down and turned off the timer, and in his hurry he came rather close to trying to take the lasagne out of the oven with his bare hands. Only when he felt the heat radiating off the metal pan and warming his fingers did he realise that that wouldn't be one of his best ideas, and he glanced around the kitchen in search of the oven gloves. But a loud rattling of keys and the creak of the front door as it was opened broke his concentration, and he turned instead towards the door. Sure enough, it was only seconds before Daisuke appeared, looking flushed and panting as if he had been running.

Taichi was simply glad that he had made it. "Dais," he cooed, affectionate and at the same time ever so slightly sarcastic, "nice of you to show up. You're just in time for dinner."

Apparently panting too much to muster a proper reply, his boyfriend shook his head rapidly and waved his hands frantically in the air. He had a certain distressed look on his face, and while he desperately tried to catch his breath, Taichi's expression remained blank. "I'm not so sure I follow, Dais. Could you rephrase that?"

"I…" seemed to be all Daisuke could manage before once again needing to breathe. Taichi raised an eyebrow as he reached for his drink again. This wasn't what he had been expecting, that was for sure. He had expected Daisuke to walk (or hop, or skip – whichever happened to take his fancy that day) in without a care in the world and promptly grovel and offer sexual favours in return for Taichi's forgiveness. And, being the generous soul that he was, Taichi would forgive him. Would probably take him up on the sex, as well. Because that's how nice he was.

But this was a scenario he wasn't quite sure how to react to yet. He rolled his hand in a circular motion, gesturing for Daisuke to finish his sentence. "You…?"

Daisuke, previously leaning with his hands on his knees, straightened up and looked Taichi in the eyes. His breathing was still rather heavy, but had calmed down just about enough for him to explain himself. "I just… I just ran over a duck."

Taichi registered what he'd said and set his glass down on the counter again. "You just ran over a duck?"

Daisuke nodded, letting his arms fall limply to his sides and dropping his gaze to the floor.

All Taichi did was blink. "A proper duck?"

Head snapping back up, Daisuke's expression was a mixture of incredulity and sheer amazement. "No, a rubber one. _Yes_, a proper duck!"

"Oh. Alright. And why are you late?" Fortunately, Taichi remembered that the oven was still on and he hurried to turn it off before the fruit of his labour was burned to a crisp. Daisuke just continued to stand, clearly confused as to how Taichi would be so calm about the whole thing.

"I had to pull over and calm myself down. I was shaking and couldn't breathe properly-"

"For over an _hour_?"

"… Tai, I don't think you're getting how big a deal this is."

Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he should have cared more than he actually did. The thought made him, just for a moment, feel like a rather inadequate excuse for a human being, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. But it was over quickly, and Taichi was far more concerned about the state of his lasagne. He fished it out with the oven gloves and placed it on the counter. It didn't look too bad, which was always a good sign, and he smiled to himself with satisfaction. Now, what had he done with those plates?

When he didn't receive a response, Daisuke strolled over to Taichi. That lasagne sure smelled and looked good, but at that moment there were slightly more pressing matters to attend to. "Don't you care that I've just killed an innocent creature?"

Taichi turned to face him, his expression indifferent. "No, not really. As long as you didn't do it on purpose, I can't see what the major problem is."

Daisuke couldn't believe his ears. He grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders and shook him roughly (to which he didn't receive a very positive response – Taichi closing his hands around Daisuke's wrists and trying to pry him away, a frustrated growl being emitted from his throat), hoping that it might bring him back to his senses. "What's the matter with you, man? I killed it. It's dead. Think about it! It probably had a family, and a home and-"

"Bloody hell, Dais, it's a _duck_!"

"Not anymore, it isn't, it's road kill! And it's my fault!"

Taichi sighed and scratched his head, refusing to look into Daisuke's desperate and pleading eyes. Instead he reached out to stroke his fingers lightly down his boyfriend's temple, across his cheek and along his jaw, finally running his thumb over his parted lips, the touch lingering and warm.

"You're acting like it was a _child_ you hit. Dais, one less duck in the world isn't going to make any difference. Really. Feel free to be sorry about it if you want, but you don't need to make such a fuss. Besides, people kill ducks on purpose all the time, don't they? For Chinese restaurants and stuff."

Even this, along with the grin that Taichi took on, wasn't enough to placate Daisuke, who clung to his shoulders like he was about to break down. "But I killed it, Tai…"

Taichi frowned, wondering why on earth Daisuke had made this into such a big deal. People hit animals much bigger than ducks with their cars all the time; there wasn't a day that went by when Taichi could go for a drive without seeing some kind of animal mangled beyond recognition at the side of the road. It happened all the time, and it wasn't like Daisuke had hit a deer or anything like that. But when he relented and, running his fingers through burgundy hair, looked into Daisuke's eyes, he knew it was going to take more than comforting words to make him feel better.

The movement was small and the contact barely there, but the faint brushing of lips was all the prompting Daisuke needed. Taichi found himself being forced backwards, eventually hitting his back on the counter, as his younger boyfriend kissed him passionately and without restraint. But he wasn't going to complain; he'd started it, after all. He wound his arms tightly around Daisuke's neck, pulling him closer still, the fingers that had previously been busy caressing his hair now fisting themselves in it, tugging him forwards to meet each bruising and needy kiss.

He could feel Daisuke's hands on him, one clutching at his shirt and the other travelling south to slide underneath, to roam with longing over every inch of the smooth skin there that it could possibly find. Taichi bit his lip as one of Daisuke's fingers ran lightly down his spine, unintentionally biting down on his boyfriend's tongue as well; the deep whine he received in response made him shiver, and he hoped that Daisuke hadn't noticed. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that Daisuke was only too aware of the effects that his sounds had, for he pulled away with a smirk to trail wet kisses along Taichi's jaw. Every now and then he stopped to nip at and graze his teeth across the tanned skin, and he couldn't help but feel pleased when he heard the responsive, sharp intake of breath and felt the grip on his hair tighten each time.

So, taking things a step further, he wedged his knee firmly between Taichi's thighs and leaned on it with all his weight. This, combined with the fact that he was now focusing his tongue on the side of Taichi's neck, had the predicted effect; no amount of lip-biting could suppress the loud moan that was elicited from the older man. Dead duck forgotten and satisfied with the reactions he was getting to his administrations, Daisuke wasn't entirely prepared when the hands in his hair pulled him back up to meet Taichi's lips again, the need apparent and the desire obvious.

It was only when Daisuke's hands had expertly found their way to the waistband of Taichi's jeans and his fingers were running teasingly over the skin underneath that Taichi remembered where and who he was. Disappointed as he was that he had to be the one to ruin the fun, he gently stopped Daisuke's wandering hands with his own and leaned back from the kiss. His boyfriend's dark eyes were glazed over, and his expression was one of confusion and impatience. He leaned forwards, wanting their contact to continue, and Taichi almost wondered why he'd pulled away in the first place. Then he smelled his carefully prepared lasagne, and put his hands on Daisuke's shoulders to halt him.

"What?"

He was using that voice that he only used when he was turned on, and it took every inch of willpower Taichi could muster to refuse him. Daisuke's face was so close to his own; he could feel the heat from his skin, their breath mingling… he gulped loudly and managed to say, "Dinner's getting cold."

"Dinner?" It appeared, from the excited tone of his voice that, much to Taichi's relief, Daisuke had forgotten all about dinner as well as the duck he'd run over. The attention span of a goldfish. He watched and suppressed a laugh as his boyfriend detached himself from him and rushed to where the lasagne was cooling on the counter.

Daisuke inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in exaggerated bliss. "Man, that smells good. What're you waiting for? Dish it up!"

Taichi snorted at the excited demand, but nevertheless did as he was told. After all the effort he'd gone to, he'd be damned if nobody ate it just because he was too stubborn to do something just because he had been told to do it. He grinned as he watched his boyfriend eagerly jump up and down before remembering the promise he'd made. A dead duck was not a good enough excuse for being late, however much Daisuke might argue the contrary, and he tried to focus on the task of getting dinner onto plates instead of how much he wanted to have his way with his boyfriend as soon as they were finished.

He obviously hadn't been thinking clearly when he threatened a sex ban. It definitely wasn't one of his better ideas.


End file.
